


Exhausted

by Lettie (LettieLou)



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Sleepy Bois Inc
Genre: Bad Self-Care, Dadza to save the day, Exhaustion, Gen, Minor Injuries, Potatoes, Technoblade angst, farming potatoes, the great potato war of 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29239881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LettieLou/pseuds/Lettie
Summary: Techno had been farming for what he thought was hours. Phil calls him, and questions why he hasn't seen Techno's communicator off for a few days, and finds the toll the work towards winning the potato war took on his eldest son.
Relationships: Phil Watson & Technoblade - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106





	Exhausted

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of my original story, edited to fit the MC world a lot better. I edited this at about 6-7AM so please lmk if I make a mistake or anything of that matter!

He was exhausted.

It had been over four days since he last slept, and he could hardly tell the difference between hours, minutes, and days. He knew he needed to stop, yet he couldn’t. It was too hard for him to leave, he just couldn’t control his ADHD and he couldn’t manage to keep himself away from his desktop long enough. He really needed to sleep.

He really needed to eat.

He was abandoning everything that wasn’t in the potato fields. He last ate three days ago, and could hardly stand without shaking immensely. He was thankful he remembered his water satchels, as he wouldn’t want to dehydrate himself. Every time he returned to a standing position, his head spun, and his hands shook. It was normal, now. He really needed to eat, or face the consequences.

He felt greasy.

He hadn’t taken a shower for four days, and could feel the grease on his hair. He knew he needed to shower, but he felt like he’d faint in the shower. That could be deadly, and he wasn’t willing to take that risk. He just pretended that feeling was normal, and tried not to itch his head. He would shower later. The dirt smeared onto his white silk top, the matted state his hair took from the soft breeze that enveloped the fields he planted on.

He was in pain.

His back hurt from the hours he spent with the pack stuffed with potato starts. He knew the muscles were screaming in agony, as they begged for a small reprieve. He took his glasses off a few hours ago, after the red marks turned raw. He would have to fix that eventually, but for now, he had things to do. 

He needed to go inside.

His skin burned with the marks of the sun, as the clouds overhead slowly led into another dark night. The shivers that accompanied the abrupt changes. The smell of the air, the soft sweet scent before the heavens decided to tear down the barrier between the mortal realm, cascading down in cold, stinging drops.

The communication he had all but forgotten about began to ring from his sack. He attempted to sit, resulting in him falling to the ground. It was someone named ‘Ph1LzA’ calling him. Who was ‘Ph1LzA’ again? His brain supplemented ‘father’ as he answered the call.

“Hey Tech, just checking in. I don’t think I’ve seen the offline mark on your comm in a while. When’s the last time you slept?” A caring voice asked him. He didn’t register where the voice was from, until he realized he had accepted the call from muscle memory.

“Recently.” He said shortly, hoping the person wouldn’t see through the lies.

He knew that he should sleep. He knew that he should eat. He knew he should shower. He knew he should go inside. He knew he needed to get a fresh change of clothes. He knew he needed human interaction. It was unhealthy for him to stay hermit away in his own little universe for such a long period of time.

“Techno, I’m serious. When was the last time you slept.” The voice demanded, instead of asking. He made a hmm as he tried to think.

“Without looking on your comm, what day is it today, Techno?” The voice asks, as he registers the question a few seconds later.

“Sunday the Eighth of November.” He stated, in full confidence. He remembered grabbing a good portion of his potato starts yesterday, and it couldn’t have been  _ that long _ . It had been at most a day. He zoned out again, turning back into the mechanical motion of digging a small hole, placing down a start, and moving forward a foot or two. The same voice called him back.

“-NOBLADE! TECHNOBLADE! Listen to me!” He practically snapped to attention when he heard his name called.

“Yessir?” He forced out in his most monotone voice.

“When did you last eat?” The disembodied voice called.

“Yesterday, the seventh.” He responded automatically.

“Text me your coords. Now.” The voice demanded, and he knew he  _ probably _ shouldn’t but something about the voice made him feel safe. The voice could probably help him. He minimized the call interface, and sent the coords to the voice’s profile. He heard the voice call for people, maybe their name started with a T and an S? He wasn’t exactly sure what was happening.

“I want you to head back to your cabin out there. You still have it, right? Then I want you to leave the door unlocked, and keep it unlocked, can you do that?” The voice asked, and even his comatose state picked up on the concern from the voice. He stood, only to fall into the mud, his legs shaking from his sheer exhaustion. The voice must have heard his mishap, as the voice started calling for him again.

“I want you to Put your comm on speaker, alright? You won’t have to hold it next to your ear, and we can still talk.” He made a sound of agreement as he moved to his comm’s settings.

“Is it on speaker?” He heard the voice ask, and he made a noise of affirmation. The voice seemed happy, as he decided to try to walk to the cabin again. It was much further away than he thought it to be, which was bad for his exhausted body.

He stood up, and grabbed the sword hanging forgotten on his hip, using it as a stable and constant assistant to his wobbly steps. He started his way back to the cabin, stumbling every so often. He heard the voice praising him, as he approached the cabin after what felt like an hour and a half.

“Good. Do you think you can eat or drink something?” The voice asked, after he told the voice the door was unlocked. He stood staring at the door. He was unsure on how to answer the voice.

“I don’t have food in kitchen.” He chopped his sentences, as his throat started to sting from the use it had gotten. He heard the voice from his phone make a worried noise, and then it swore. He heard the voice tell him to take himself to his couch, and try to sleep. He wanted to argue, but he found himself too exhausted to fight with the voice. He would have to wait for the voice to come help him.

“I’ve booked the next portal transfer to your realm, I’ll be leaving in ten minutes. Don’t hang up, I’m leaving you with Wilbur on the line. He’ll be talking with you, alright?” The voice told him, as he nodded.

“I can’t see you, so I need you to say yes, alright? I know your throat might hurt, but I  _ need _ you to respond to me now.” The voice called urgently, as he heard noise in the background of the voice.

“Yes” He did as the voice told. The voice hadn’t led him astray yet, so he just hoped that the voice would keep him safe.

“Alright, Techno, I’m handing you over now, alright?” The voice said, as he suddenly heard a new one. This one was smoother than the voice before. He asked him how he was, and started to tell him about his week. He listened, as it was the polite thing to do. He didn’t want to be rude, especially with one of them coming out to see him.

The next thing he registered was someone shaking him. He woke to a man with blonde hair. He registered the voice as the same one that he was talking to earlier. The man held a water bottle out to him, and he took it with shaking hands. His brain related the person in front of him to the figure he always called in distress.

He attempted to open the water bottle, but his hands were shaking too much. The person in front of him, that his brain dubbed as ‘Dad’ opened the water bottle and brought it to his lips. He felt the cold water on his lips, and opened his mouth to drink it.

He just wanted sleep. He needed to sleep. He needed to shower. He needed to eat. He was starving, and shaking, and nauseous, and vaguely aware of his surrounding.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, do you hear me? I need you to stay with me. I’m going to help you stand up, and we’re going to walk to the kitchen. From there, you’re going to sit on one of the chairs. Where is your first aid kid? I need to put antibacterial ointment on your face. Afterwards, I’m going to make you some chicken broth, and you’re going to eat it.” His dad said to him, making sure to state his words slowly.

He felt himself nod, as his dad helped him stand. He must’ve twisted his ankle on his journey back to his home, as he couldn’t put any weight on it. He leaned onto his father as much as he could, without tipping them both over. He was so much taller than his father, he probably got the genes from his mom. He couldn’t recall his mom, and he felt like that should alarm him.

He felt his dad start to lower the both of them to one of the chairs. His vision was too blurry to see where he was, and he felt like that was bad. He should probably say something.

“I cntt see nythng” He slurred together, as he watched his dad stand up to leave him. He watched as the blurry figure walked over to the sink, and grabbed a towel and wet it with water. He watched as his dad swore under his breath, and started to gently wipe the towel across his cheeks and nose, his skin was raw from the rubbing of his glasses.

The blurry outline stood up, as he rushed around the dusty cabin kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers until he found a white box tucked away under the sink. His dad pulled out a softer cloth, as he carefully poured a little liquid from a brown bottle, and muttered something about stinging.

He was not prepared for the sharp stinging on the bridge of his nose, as his dad carefully patted the stinging cloth over the raw skin from days and nights of wearing his glasses. His dad then took more of the cloth, and gently set it over the redness, and started to softly mutter words under his breath. He assumed his dad was trying to comfort him, but he was unable to register anything.

He watched his dad leave the room again, as he walked back into the room with something small and gold in his hands. Oh, those were his glasses. He watched as his dad carefully put them over his nose, doing his best to avoid the soft cloth on his face.

His vision cleared, and he could see everything in a much sharper way. The edges of the counter got more visible, and his dad’s features got defined.

“Is everything more clear, Tech?” His dad asked, and he nodded. His dad took a few steps back, and then turned around to go sort through the cabinets. Dad swore under his breath, as almost every cabinet was empty. He watched as his dad suddenly called out thankfully, as he pulled a cylinder from the cabinet closest to the door.

“Where do you keep the pots and pans, Tech?” His dad asked, and he pointed to the cabinet under the stove. His dad pulled out a small pan, and went to the food chest he had buried under the counter, to keep the fresh meats cold. Pulling out a few more water bottles, he filled the pan to about halfway full before putting it on the stove. Dad returned to him, and handed him the glass bottle he had before. Dad put the bottle in his hands, and he decided he should probably drink from it. As he went to drink from it, Dad left the room and walked towards his bedroom.

When Dad returned a minute or two later, dad put a blanket around his shoulders. Dad had also grabbed his shampoo and conditioner, but he would ignore that for now. He slumped onto the table, as the exhaustion hit twice fold. He just wanted to sleep, he just needed to sleep. He couldn’t stay awake for a second longer, he just needed rest.

Dad shook his shoulder, and set a bowl in front of him. It was full of something that smelled heavenly, and his stomach called out to the dish in front of him. His dad handed him a spoon, and he snatched it from his dad’s hands. He was starving, he couldn’t remember the last time he ate.

He finished the bowl of chicken broth in record time, and wanted to go away to bed. As soon as humanly possible. His dad stood up and grabbed one of the spare chairs, before bringing it to the sink. Dad returned and helped him walk over to the chair, and pulled his glasses off his face. He laid down a towel, and turned the sink on.

The water was pleasantly warm, as Dad washed his hair for him. He felt himself dozing off, only to wake when a towel was wrapped around his hair, and he was gently nudged away by his dad.

“Time to head to bed, alright?” His dad whispers, as he nods. Dad helps him to his feet for the last time that day, and dad helps him walk to his room, and then makes sure he’s tucked under the blankets. He falls asleep to the sound of his dad fussing around the room cleaning it, with the horse hair broom he had made the last time he had visited.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have the second chapter up semi-soon? I think I'm gonna go to bed now.


End file.
